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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099957">Come and Get Your Glove</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratemistress/pseuds/piratemistress'>piratemistress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty Talk, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Kylo Ren, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fingering, Force Bond (Star Wars), Glove Kink, Hand Kink, Language, Naked Female Clothed Male, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-TLJ, Smut, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Top Kylo Ren, Under-negotiated Kink, bond sex, bratty sub, canonverse, gap fic, one year gap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,828</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099957</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratemistress/pseuds/piratemistress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She stared him down, or tried. “What <em>do</em> you want?”</p><p>His mouth quirked. “I can’t just drop in?” He kept stalking her—yes, <em>stalking</em> was the word for that deliberate, predatory gait—and she abandoned their circling to just move farther <em>away</em> from him. </p><p>Not because she was afraid; not really. She wanted to see how far he’d pursue her.</p><p>*   *   *<br/>Set in one-year gap between TLJ and TROS, shameless glove kink, oral sex, CW for language.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey &amp; Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Come and Get Your Glove</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilander/pseuds/Lilander/works">Lilander</a> for an incredibly helpful beta read!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Am I in your quarters? I can’t tell.”</p><p>Seated at her workstation, Rey clocked the distance to the lightsaber Leia loaned her for training (three meters) and the distance to the door (four meters). Standing between her, a weapon, and possible escape was Kylo Ren and/or Ben Solo (two meters) whose name she chose to assign depending on whether or not he was actively pissing her off.</p><p>Her heart instantly leapt into a new, staccato rhythm, and she took a deep breath to quell a rush of adrenaline. His chin was dimpled, his thick black brows knitted into a frown.</p><p>“Go scowl somewhere else, Kylo,” she replied, and made a show of turning back to her datapad of surveillance drone schematics, which he thankfully couldn’t see.</p><p>A tingle down her spine told her he had declined to follow her request. In fact, he had moved closer. She turned to eye him over her shoulder. The man never just stood there. He could only <em>loom</em>.</p><p>“You haven’t called me that lately.”</p><p>“There are other things I could call you.”</p><p>Like scum, she thought as she glanced him over. Horrible, evil, devastatingly handsome, ridiculously dressed, extremely dangerous <em>scum</em>.</p><p>“I’m sure. You and your general can bond over it.” His expression was unchanged, but his gloved hand twitched, drawing her eye. Maybe a reflex, maybe a prelude to summoning a weapon that was surely near to hand.  </p><p>And Kylo Ren was never truly unarmed when he had his mind and the Force to use, not to mention those elegant, long-fingered hands and his goddamn face which she imagined had at some point severely wounded the hearts, if not the bodies, of at least a few women scattered across the galaxy.</p><p>Herself included, probably, if she were honest; at least she’d inflicted a little revenge of her own on that face, scarring him however unintentionally, and she’d felt bad about it at one point for at least a few minutes, maybe an hour.</p><p>“Do I have something on my face?”</p><p>There was a wry twist to his lips that signaled the taunt was deliberate. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring, and immediately dropped her gaze. She tried to look somewhere <em>else</em>, anywhere else, and ended up looking at one of his huge hands, now spread and flexing lightly against his upper thigh.</p><p>A bad choice. It did nothing but remind her of the extremely irritating urge to reach out and test the firmness of that thigh beneath the black fabric, the smoothness of that glove over the contours of his hand. Her hands itched. She clenched her fists.</p><p>“You going to punch me?” He had drawn even more uncomfortably near (one meter) and was looking warily at her fists. “I was gracious the last time you just showed up.”</p><p>Oh, so he <em>did</em> remember that.</p><p>As the months passed after Crait she had gotten better at blocking him out, but then there was this tiny prickle of curiosity – where <em>was</em> he, what was he <em>doing</em> – that would make her try to peer through her defenses, as though there were a peephole.</p><p>Once, recently, she’d caught a glimpse of him, and he had been—well, not masturbating <em>exactly</em>, just sort of sprawled on a couch or something, in a looser gray shirt and long black pants she imagined were for sleep or exercise, no mask, his feet bare. Supreme Leader off-duty. The way his long legs were spread wide as he casually lounged there, his huge right hand resting high on his upper thigh, just made her think maybe he had been <em>about to</em> masturbate.</p><p>He had caught her eye for just an instant. Thankfully, the bond had quickly cut out.</p><p>With effort, she dragged her eyes northward from the hand on his leg. “I’m really not interested in a repeat performance tonight.”</p><p>A slight narrowing of his eyes told her he didn’t quite believe her. “So I’m not invited?” He took a few more steps in her direction. “Why? Am I disturbing you?”</p><p> She wet her lips. “Seems you want to be.”</p><p>“Disturbing you?”</p><p>“Invited,” she shot back, realizing too late he’d been goading her. There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. She didn’t imagine she had much of a career in politics after the war, because when it came to high-pressure public speaking, she was about as eloquent as an astromech droid.</p><p>She leapt up from her seat at the workstation. Whatever this confrontation was, better to meet it on her feet.</p><p>He paused in his forward advance, then a step to the side. They began to circle each other.</p><p>“Why—want me to accept?”</p><p>“Depends if I’m armed.” She ground her teeth as she watched him stroll around her private space like he owned the place. Just because he ruled the goddamn galaxy – for now – didn’t mean she had to let him <em>get</em> to her.</p><p>He did, though. Get to her.</p><p>“And if you were armed?” His eyes were trained on her as he moved in one direction, she in the other. His hand twitched again, open, at his side, and she half-expected his lightsaber to materialize in his leather-clad palm, but it didn’t.</p><p>“I’d run you through.”</p><p>“Well, you’d try, anyway.”</p><p>“Want to find out?”</p><p>“Not that. Not yet.” His gaze dropped to her shoulders, then down the rest of her body before returning to her face, which suddenly burned in response.</p><p>She stared him down, or tried. “What <em>do</em> you want?”</p><p>His mouth quirked. “I can’t just drop in?” He kept stalking her—yes, <em>stalking</em> was the word for that deliberate, predatory gait—and she abandoned the circling to just move farther <em>away </em>from him. Not because she was afraid; not really. She wanted to see how far he’d pursue her.</p><p>“To my quarters, you mean?”</p><p>He was drawing closer. Closer than ever before, close enough for her to actually feel the texture of his tunic and smell him, leather and whatever medicinal-smelling soap they used in sonics on Star Destroyers.</p><p>“Would that be so bad?”</p><p>They were talking about something else, now. Rey knew it, and he probably knew it, too. “For me? Or for you?”</p><p>He cocked his head. Did he know? “For either of us.”</p><p>“I <em>don’t</em> want to know.” It was true, but not for the reason he thought. She was backed against the wall, now, and he had actually followed her all the way there.</p><p>“So you’d be disgusted?”</p><p>Closer still, and his gloved hand was on the wall beside her head, his face beside hers.</p><p>“<em>Are</em> you disgusted?” he said, and she just rapidly nodded her head, not trusting her voice at that moment, since it felt like all her breath was caught in her chest.</p><p>“But you’re not, are you?” he mused, and she could feel him prodding through the bond, <em>sensing</em> her. “No, you’re…” He cocked his head, thinking. “…Intrigued. You’re… <em>pleased</em>.”</p><p><em>Let it stop there,</em> Rey prayed.</p><p>But the bastard was fucking telepathic, so, no, it didn’t.</p><p>“You’re…” He angled his face toward hers, his expression puzzled. “You’re…” He swallowed, and that’s when she knew that <em>he</em> knew. Her cheeks burned, and she closed her eyes.</p><p>Maybe he’d just vanish, the bond separating them again as randomly as it had united them.<em> Please, please, please</em>, she prayed. <em>Just let this all disappear</em>.</p><p>When she opened her eyes, however, Kylo Ren was still there, his face an inch from hers.</p><p>“You’re <em>aroused</em>,” he said.</p><p>So, that was it then – her humiliation was complete. She was a silly, low-class scavenger who played at Jedi training and was such a fool, such <em>trash</em>, as to actually become attracted to the enemy she was supposed to be fighting. To have a crush on him like a teenager, except she was a grown woman with a woman’s knowledge and desires. And now he knew it.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut, again. She desperately wanted a chasm to open in the floor and swallow her.</p><p>Yet, hitting rock-bottom in her embarrassment set off some kind of defense mechanism. She had virtually nothing left to lose, now, so she reopened her eyes and faced him.</p><p>Meeting his eyes was risky, because all she would find was a knowing, mocking glint. It wasn’t any better to look at the rest of his features—the bold nose, the high cheekbones, the soft mouth—because even if he were <em>technically</em> a prince of Alderaan, his permanent scowl made him seem more like the prince of Abject Misery.</p><p>All hail His Highness, Supreme Leader of Self-Loathing, Prince of Constant Suffering, Overlord of Galactic Aggravation.</p><p>She didn’t plan to fall at his feet, though, even though he towered over her, placing her eye-level to his chin. She tried especially hard not to look at his mouth, and so of course she could <em>only</em> now somehow stare directly at his mouth. His lips were full and sensual and had no business being on an evil Dark Side tyrant and she wondered if she could use the Force to fold them permanently inside his mouth so she wouldn’t have to look at them anymore.</p><p>She lashed out with the Force, but not at his mouth; at their bond, doing what he’d just done, diving in, poking and prodding for <em>sensations, </em>for <em>feelings.</em></p><p>And what she found made her breath catch and her shoulders tense where she stood, caged in Kylo Ren’s arms against the wall of her room. <em>You’re aroused</em>, he’d announced, practically triumphant in his ability to humiliate her, thinking he’d won.</p><p>“So are you,” she said through gritted teeth, meeting his eyes again.</p><p>His eyes flared, briefly – had he realized he was aroused, or was this news to him?—and she watched him swallow, hard.</p><p>“You want me to kiss you.” It wasn’t an offer, wasn’t even a <em>question</em>. It was an accusation.</p><p>“You <em>want</em> to kiss me.” She noticed her hands had begun to tremble. <em>Steady</em>.</p><p>Both of them were pulling at the bond, trying to see into the other, looking for juicy tidbits to use to gain any kind of advantage in the situation. She scanned his body, where she could feel – from his side – his heart speeding up, his cock getting hard as they stood there. He was prodding inside her mind, looking for her thoughts about him, her impressions. At some point they switched and he was mentally breathing in all her bodily sensations, and then she was in his head, a roiling sea of conflicting emotions and desires and frustrations and fears.</p><p>“You’re so embarrassed.” His lips pressed into something that could, one day, perhaps, grow up to be a smile.</p><p>“You’re so <em>scared</em>,” she told him, and he was. He was fucking terrified. Of what was going on in the First Order, of what he’d become, and also, apparently, of <em>her</em>. Of this, right here.</p><p>He was a master of many things, but not talking to women, it seemed. Her heart raced, notwithstanding. “You understand <em>nothing</em>.”</p><p>She might have taken offense, but judging by his laser-focused pupils, that remark was addressed entirely to her lower lip.</p><p>“Enlighten me, then.”</p><p>“You think you’re so <em>good</em>,” he sneered. He leaned against her with more weight, and she could feel the size and heat of his body, as though he were really there.</p><p>“And you’re what? Pure fucking evil?”</p><p>That was a blunder. Now he was pushing with the bond, delving into her body for reactions. She drew in her breath and she held it, willing her whole body not to give <em>anything away</em>.</p><p>“You’re fucking <em>wet</em>,” he hissed into her ear. Clearly her body had not listened to the plea she’d just made.</p><p>She bit back a groan as his lips made contact with her neck, maybe incidentally, maybe deliberately.</p><p>“You’re fucking <em>hard</em>.” She’d meant it to be defiant, and instead it emerged as some kind of throaty murmur. What was <em>happening</em>? She was scrambling for control. Losing.</p><p>The slightest inclination of his head. “So are your nipples.”</p><p>She snorted. “The Force tell you that?”</p><p>“No.” He sounded deceptively innocent. “Just my eyes.”</p><p>Her mouth fell open, but she had no retort at the ready, not for that. She didn’t need to look to know he was right. She blinked, rapidly, feeling herself blush even more. There wasn’t any ammo left, not of that nature, so it was time to pivot.</p><p>“You’re too scared to do anything about it,” she told him, and was horrified to hear the breathy catch in her voice, how she was nearly panting, now.</p><p>“Wanna bet?” This was growled into the curve of her neck, and she shuddered violently, because it felt so fucking good and also she wanted to just disappear forever.</p><p>“What’s the bet?”</p><p>He lifted his head, and both their hearts were pounding furiously, now. Arousal was skyrocketing on both sides and ricocheting between them. They were Alessian moths to a flame. They had no chance.</p><p>“I’ll make you come,” he said, leaning his hot forehead against hers, both arms now braced above their heads, and the words slipped along her nerve endings and left fire in their wake. Stars, she wanted that. Then he added, “More. I’ll make you <em>beg.</em>”</p><p>She closed her eyes with a groan and her head fell back against the wall. The threat—promise?— had her pulse pounding and she was so wet she was probably dripping down her thighs and this was going to be fucking <em>humiliating</em> from beginning to end because Kylo Ren would make <em>sure</em> of it.</p><p>
  <em>Sign me up.</em>
</p><p>One thing she’d learned was that the most fun kind of mortal danger, after all, was the kind you actually volunteer for.</p><p>She opened her eyes and peered at him through lowered lashes, feeling his nervousness, feeling how badly he wanted her to say yes, and it almost took the edge off her embarrassment at the entire debacle, because Force knew she was never going to live it down for as long as they were enemies or as long as they lived, whichever was longer.</p><p>“Well, go ahead,” she tried to say as neutrally as possible, as neutrally as anyone could with her arms shaking and her breath catching and her body tensing and her juices leaking through her underwear.</p><p>“You’re serious?” His body pressed even closer, and his cock pressed between her thighs through their clothes and her hips ground against him. How <em>dare</em> her body do such a thing. Did it not understand there was still pride to be salvaged?</p><p>“Were you <em>not</em>?”</p><p>“Oh, I was.”</p><p>“So? Let’s have it.”</p><p>“You’re going to,” he said, and then he pinched her chin to turn her face toward his, and kissed her.</p><p>This <em>kiss</em>, she observed as she clung on to thoughts that flew away, scattering like bits of brush before the sandstorm that was Kylo Ren fucking <em>kissing</em> her, here in her room, his tongue plunging into her mouth, was <em>nothing</em> like she had imagined, when she let herself imagine turning him back and he’d be good Ben Solo again and she’d be allowed to want to kiss him.</p><p>No.</p><p><em>This</em> kiss was just sheer combustion, smoke and vapors and searing, hot flame that spread down her body and pooled between her legs and he was groaning, too, reaching behind her to hitch her up against the wall, her legs falling naturally around his hips (how <em>dare</em> they) and she was already at the point of wanting more contact on her swollen pussy, needing something to <em>rub</em> her, so if she’d ever thought she might win that bet, she could just forget that now.</p><p>And just when she was despairing a bit at the utter slut he was making of her, she opened herself to the bond and felt <em>him</em> and he was feeling <em>so</em> much: desperate want and possession and arousal so scorching hot he was sort of afraid he was going to come right there in his pants.</p><p>Almost as though he realized she knew, he broke the kiss, looking down at her, eyes frantic, panting through those sinfully full lips, and she had to smile for just a moment and savor this one, small victory.</p><p>“Lie down,” he told her, and she knew it was half to make the next thing more convenient and half to give him a few moments to get himself under control.</p><p>She crossed the room and sprawled on her bed, a simple thing assembled from salvage metal and stuffed blankets because that was all the Resistance had right now. But he couldn’t see that, only her.</p><p>“Take your pants off,” he ordered, striding closer, and she knew he was still playing for time, catching his breath, trying to salvage his dignity like she was. “Underwear too. All of it.”</p><p>She watched him while she stripped her lower body, expeditiously, because she wasn’t really in the mood to wait for whatever was coming. He was in head-to-toe black, fully dressed, belt, cape. Gloves. She eyed them, then quickly pulled her gaze away. But he clocked it. Of course he did.</p><p>She watched as he ripped at the fastenings of his cape and tossed it behind him, where it vanished, no longer being attached to his body. He reached the bed and grabbed both her knees, spreading them wide with a single, sharp motion strong enough to make her gasp. She hadn’t been stretching much, lately.</p><p>He froze, looking at her face. “I hurt you.”</p><p>He had, a little, and it had slightly increased, rather than diminished, her arousal.</p><p>“Not really,” she replied, trying to keep her voice level. Cool. She was cool, everything was completely cool.</p><p>He stared harder. “You <em>liked</em> it.”</p><p>Before, when she thought she’d hit rock-bottom of humiliation, it turned out she was wrong – hooray – but that was also bad news, because <em>this</em> was rock-bottom, Kylo Ren staring at her like she was not only a shameless hussy but a total fucking pervert.</p><p>She glared back, and it was time for some bond action, yes, some investigation into exactly what Kylo Ren was thinking and feeling at this moment that she could use, and his white-hot arousal had just ratcheted up a notch and it was gold, pure gold, what she’d just learned.</p><p>“So did you,” she replied, exultant.</p><p>He swallowed. “That’s because I’m sick,” he said, and she could sense his hesitation, his desire leaping wildly off every gauge but actual <em>shame</em> just reining him in. Which was, actually, a shame. From what she could feel over the bond, he was torn between wanting to run away and wanting to shove his dick inside her, as soon as humanly possible.</p><p><em>Don’t run away</em>.</p><p>“Then so am I,” she ventured, and his eyed widened briefly with surprise. That she’d said a single kind thing, that she even cared, that she wasn’t telling him to get the fuck out of her room.</p><p>His surprise became relief and then fed straight back into arousal, as she watched his face darken and he was moving something in his surroundings to sit on so that he appeared to sit on her bed, and then he was sliding his glove over the inside of her thigh.</p><p>“Then we’re well-matched,” he managed to say with remarkable poise.</p><p>She fought for calm. “We always were.”</p><p>Her eyes fluttered closed and she wished she had something to bite down on, because the feel of his glove leather on her bare thigh, slipping across where she’d dripped, knowing he was getting her low-class scavenger juice all over that <em>expensive</em> fucking leather, was almost more than she could take.</p><p>He reached her center and stopped, waiting, and she opened her eyes to look at him. His lips were parted, his cheeks a bit flushed, and his eyes… he looked like he could <em>devour</em> her right there. She was shaking, now. All over. Just one big trembling mass of thoroughly humiliated woman, and she was praying that he’d have mercy and just <em>touch</em> her, already.</p><p>He did; he reached down and brushed his gloved thumb over her whole sex, and her hips bucked against his gloved hand.</p><p>“Take off the rest,” he said, and the command only lost a little of its power when his voice cracked and he swallowed.</p><p>And she thought about just obeying, but where was the fun in that? So she said, “Why don’t you make me?”</p><p>In a second he was on her, ripping off her belt and throwing it across the room, then shoving his gloved hands under her tunic, under the shirt she wore underneath, forcing them over her head, and the whole time he was growling “Is this what you want? Is it?”</p><p>She had to say something, because the evil son of a bitch was actually <em>asking</em>, which was sort of normal and sweet and not really what she expected. Feeling like she had to keep some challenge in it, she said, “Yes, think you can handle that?”</p><p>He got his gloved fingertips and thumb around the top and bottom of her thick breastband and yanked, bringing her whole upper body up close to him, their faces an inch apart, and he was breathing very fast and hard and was clearly flustered and a little overwhelmed.</p><p>It was delightful.</p><p>She kissed him, this time, and he went rigid for a second and then melted against her, his mouth softening and parting for her tongue. He groaned, and his tongue was moving against hers, fighting her back, and then he was the conqueror and she was boneless, being supported completely by his grip on her breastband.</p><p>He suddenly tore his mouth away, sitting back. He began to tug at her breastband, searching in vain for clasps, then trying to pull it up, then down, all to no avail.</p><p>“This. Off!” he barked, letting go of the breastband suddenly, so she fell back onto the bed. “Take it—off.”</p><p>She did, and while she might be losing control of her arousal and from the looks of it, the entire war they were all embroiled in, she was tremendously pleased to hear him at least losing control of sentence structure.</p><p>When her breasts were bared to his gaze, his nostrils flared, and he inclined his head slightly to one side and the other; from the bond she sensed both awe and a hunger to do things that were… not nice.</p><p>Then he pounced, and she let out a squeak of surprise as he landed atop her, his gloved hands already reaching for her breasts. “You want this too, Rey?” he whispered, and it was the first time he’d said her name tonight, and she let that sink in for a minute.</p><p>She was slow to answer, and he growled “<em>Do</em> you?” into her ear as his hands closed over her breasts.</p><p>“Yes,” she whispered back, still reeling from the way her name sounded on his lips, here, now, with his black-gloved hands covering her pale breasts.</p><p>His hands were warm, despite the leather, and when he pinched her nipples she cried out, and she felt him prodding at the bond to learn if it was pain or pleasure (it was both) and he did it again, harder this time.</p><p>She made another sound, helplessly, and he cut her off with a kiss, this one bruising, overpowering, and she crumpled into his clothed chest, the texture of his tunic abrading her bare skin. He still had on every stitch of clothing, she realized, boots, belt, tunic, gloves. She <em>hated</em> what the uniform represented but she <em>loved</em> his goddamn clothes, and she wished he could just ship her the whole outfit so she could go to bed with that and it might be less embarrassing than this whole sordid scene.</p><p>Just like that, the kiss ended, he ripped his mouth away, and he twisted around to lay her down on the bed and sit beside her, his face close to hers, an arm under her back, the other one open across her belly, so large it almost spanned her waist.</p><p>“What did I tell you?” he said to her in a quiet, low tone, like she was some wounded creature he was trying to lure to safety, or slaughter.</p><p>Her head fell back, every nerve centered on where that gloved hand was resting over her belly button. “That you’d make me come.”</p><p>“<em>And</em>?”</p><p>“That you’d make me beg.”</p><p>“Good. Remember that.” He slid his gloved hand down between her legs.</p><p>They were textured, his gloves, just slightly, ridged evenly across the hand and outlining his fingers. She felt every centimeter, every ridge and valley, the silky smoothness of it warmed through by his hands, as he slipped his fingers through her curls and between her folds. She bucked when he made passing contact with her clit and then continued his way down.</p><p>He paused, and looked down at her. “Have you—do you know—did you ever—”</p><p>“Yes. It’s fine.” From the bond she can tell he wanted to know if she’d ever been penetrated with anything, if she wanted his fingers inside her, if he was going to hurt her more than just a little. His stammering was endearing, the Supreme Leader of the First Order just trying to spit out an awkward question to a naked, extremely aroused woman.</p><p>Maybe he even liked her. Who knew?</p><p>With renewed gusto he thumbed across her clit and she forgot about his stammering and his awkward charm, because he was <em>touching her clit</em> and in another second he was slipping a gloved finger inside her and she was whimpering, actually whimpering, in her sworn enemy’s black-swathed arms while he fingered her.</p><p>In another moment he had begun supporting her head in the crook of his elbow, and he was watching her face while he found a rhythm with his hand that she liked.</p><p>Well, <em>liked</em> wasn’t the right word, because her mouth was hanging open as she gasped, and she was very focused on the feeling of his thick, leather-covered finger – now <em>fingers</em>, she was pretty sure—moving in and out of her and his thumb sweeping over her clit between strokes. This was—this, she fucking <em>loved</em>.</p><p>It made sense he would be good with his hands. It really did. She reminded herself of this. There was nothing special about him. Just a regular guy, dressed like some kind of creepy knight, hard-wired to her brain so there was no escape, making her moan right in his face to a truly mortifying extent while he fingered her pussy with his gloves and all his goddamn clothes on.</p><p>This was totally normal and fine.</p><p>Maybe she could—she reached over with her hand, trying to feel between his legs, ready to do anything to even the score a little bit, but he stopped fingering her and smacked her hand away.</p><p>“No. Not now,” he said.</p><p>She groaned in protest, and reached for his hand instead, trying to bring it down between her legs where she had been getting close and was not eager for any kind of reality to distract her.</p><p>But he pulled his hand away, too.</p><p>She opened her eyes, and he was looking down at her, extraordinary effort etched all over his face. That was from holding himself back, she could tell over the bond. His thoughts were fragments of <em>want her</em> and <em>fuck yes</em> and also <em>did I actually lock the door?</em></p><p>She couldn’t resist. “Did you?”</p><p>He huffed out a frustrated breath through his nostrils, but didn’t move. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”</p><p>“Touch me, Ben.” She tried tugging on his hand again.</p><p>He stilled, and she realized she’d used his given name. It just slipped out, when they were close like this. She knew who he <em>was</em>, even if he hated it.</p><p>He didn’t seem angry. He bent his head to close the distance between their lips, and said, “<em>Beg</em> me.”</p><p>Her eyes blinked open. “You said, first you’d make me come, <em>then</em> you’d make me beg.”</p><p>“No, I didn’t!” he snapped, his patience clearly hanging by a thread. “It—the order doesn’t fucking matter. <em>Beg me</em>.”</p><p>He punctuated this last by shaking her – just a bit—with the arm supporting her head.</p><p>She glanced down at the gloved hand, thought again how beautiful his clothes were. But maybe they were past that, now. “Take off your glove,” she told him.</p><p>She heard his indrawn breath, wondered if the gloves had afforded him a sense of security, like he wasn’t really doing this. They weren’t <em>really</em> doing this, after all – he was lightyears away, and the next time they fought they’d just act like this never happened. It didn’t count. Nothing mattered.</p><p>“Beg me,” he repeated.</p><p>She took in a long, slow breath. And so, they had come to the point where she would, in fact, be reduced to begging the enemy leader to bring her off with his hand, and that was just how it was going to be.</p><p>She could accept it. Eventually.</p><p>“Please,” she said.</p><p>“Please <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Please take off your gloves.” She looked up at him. He didn’t smile, but his eyes relaxed in a way that told her he was pleased.</p><p>“Sit up,” he said, and she did. She watched as he loosened each of his right glove fingers individually, then wriggled and tugged until it came off. He held it, almost regretfully. “I think if I put it down, you don’t see it anymore,” he said.</p><p>The bond was bizarre, fickle at times. And it seemed to get stronger all the time. Tonight was a new high, both of them churning so much want and hunger and so immersed in the bond that textures and smells were coming over. “Lay it here,” she suggested, and he laid it across her stomach.</p><p>“Still there?”</p><p>She could see it. She nodded. “Now the other one.”</p><p>When he had gone through the same process with the other one, he laid the left glove beside the right, and she reached out to grab his bare hand. He was startled—he wasn’t expecting her to do that, but he soon turned his palm into hers and their fingers folded, and she couldn’t explain why arousal shot through her belly, but it did.</p><p>And she could feel it from him, too. His reaction to his skin on her skin. Stars, if they ever <em>did</em> manage to have sex it was going to be amazing.</p><p>He didn’t undress, but he hastily shoved up his sleeves and they bunched on his massive forearms. He tucked hair behind his ears and re-settled himself on whatever he was sitting on, whatever Evil Supreme Leaders sat on in their quarters, probably a throne made from the eyeballs of his enemies, or whatever. She didn’t really want to know.</p><p>“Ben.” She moved their joined hands between her legs. “Touch me?”</p><p>“Rey,” he replied in an equally soft tone. “Beg me.”</p><p>And he started to tease her, then, with his bare finger, and she felt a shudder go through him and she knew he could tell how hot and wet she was, and that he was responsible for it, and it was driving him insane.</p><p>Enough was enough.</p><p>“Please, touch me.”</p><p>He did, then, in earnest, sliding two fingers inside her just as before, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. His thumb circled her clit and she thought that she actually wouldn’t need much more of this to fulfill the second part of their bet. Threat. Whatever.</p><p>“Can you actually feel me?” she asked, curious what the sensations were like on his end.</p><p>“Oh yes.” His gaze flicked to hers. “Every drop.”</p><p>“Oh,” she breathed, both incredibly aroused and a little embarrassed, because she’d apparently been getting her juices all over him.</p><p>He paused, and she whimpered and tried to hold his hand in place, but he shook off her grip. “I wonder,” he said. He lifted his fingers to his face. Sniffed them.</p><p>“I smell you.” He said it the way one would say <em>I smell home-baked bread</em>, reverently, hungrily, and she squeezed her legs together and squirmed because she could not take much more of this.</p><p>“Ben, <em>please</em>.”</p><p>His gaze returned to hers, but he ignored her plea. Instead he slipped his fingers into his mouth, and she thought she would die of both pleasure and mortification at the same time.</p><p>She waited, breathing hard, for his reaction. It felt like an eternity while he slowly withdrew his fingers from his lips, his face a mask of concentration. His fingers were wet with his saliva, and maybe still her fluids, and it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her life.</p><p>His eyes moved to meet hers. They were wide, intent. “I can <em>taste</em> you.”</p><p>“<em>Ben…</em>”</p><p>Everything was about to change, she could feel it, and she realized she wasn’t begging for his hand anymore, and it seemed he knew it, too, because he turned in his seat and stared fixedly across her body, and between her legs like he was aiming a weapon.</p><p>Then he leapt up, propped his left forearm just under her breasts, and bent his head to grind his whole mouth into her pussy.</p><p>She choked on a sob of pleasure, disbelief warring with awe. His arms were so long, his shoulders so broad, that he could easily just lean over her like that and have full access to <em>everything</em>.</p><p>His black tunic was soft against her belly and abdomen, and it was so <em>strange</em> because he was sort of sideways and upside down, but what <em>wasn’t</em> strange about this whole ordeal? Anyway, it didn’t matter because apparently Kylo Ren and/or Ben Solo knew his way around a pussy no matter which direction he was facing, and soon he was sucking on her clit and she was making ridiculous noises of extreme pleasure and pulling desperately on his hair.</p><p>“Ben, please. Ben. <em>Please</em>.”</p><p>The arm under her breasts lifted, and soon his palm was pressing down on her chest, between her breasts. He pushed her down, hard, onto the bed.</p><p>He pulled his mouth away just long enough to say, “Do you want me to make you come?”</p><p>She was done arguing. “Yes.”</p><p>“Do you want me to <em>let</em> you come?”</p><p>“<em>Yes.”</em></p><p>“Then fucking beg me. For all of it. And you better make me believe it,” he said, his lips moving against her thigh, before he dipped his head and touched her with his tongue again. He was very attuned to her, and he was able to anticipate what she wanted sometimes before she even knew it herself. Time to face it. The Supreme Leader was not only good with his hands, but was an absolute dream with his mouth, too. It really wasn’t fair.</p><p>A firm push of his palm on her chest brought her to her senses, and she started to process everything that she needed to do, here.</p><p>Right now, it appeared her plan was:</p>
<ul>
<li>beg the Supreme Leader of the First Order, explicitly, to not only make her come, but to <em>let</em> her come, while they had spiritual bond sex that allowed him to see, hear, touch, smell and taste her;</li>
<li>come; and</li>
<li>die of humiliation, probably.</li>
</ul><p>It really wasn’t <em>that</em> bad.</p><p>This was just what people did, right? She hadn’t had a <em>lot</em> of sex, so she couldn’t be sure, but people did dirty talk, people enjoyed oral sex, people allowed themselves to be completely dominated and totally <em>demolished</em> by the highest-ranking member of the opposing military government in bed, and it all worked out just fine. Right?</p><p>Ben’s mouth stopped again, and she felt him turn his head a few inches. “You better start begging, Rey, or there are <em>going</em> to be consequences.”</p><p>She suddenly wanted to laugh, and pressed her lips together to suppress it. Ben would <em>not</em> like being laughed at. How could he know that whatever consequences he was threatening, she couldn’t imagine <em>anything</em> more humiliating than having to beg him to eat her pussy and then having to look him in the face in the future on the fucking <em>battlefield</em> in front of all her friends and his subordinates?</p><p>He stopped again, and Rey froze. In her highly aroused, near-panicked state she hadn’t been careful about her thoughts, about the bond. But maybe he hadn’t heard.</p><p>He raised his head, and turned his face toward her, hovering over her stomach, where his gloves still lay. The look in his eyes was murderous.</p><p>Ah, so he’d heard. This wasn’t going to end well.</p><p>He leaned back, dropping back into his seat. He placed both palms on her torso, one on her breast, and one below her navel, patting as though he were thinking. Then he bent closer.</p><p>“Rey. My innocent, naïve little padawan.” She cocked her head, because she got the sense he was mocking her. He bent closer still, so his lips hovered over hers. “You don’t have the slightest <em>idea</em> how deeply I could humiliate you. How much more there is. There are <em>so many</em> things I could do to you, that I’ve thought about doing to you. And you—tonight you let me know for sure, that you would let me do them <em>all.”</em></p><p>She drew in a deep breath, her imagination running wild, arousal making her squeeze her thighs together but he just reached down and insinuated his hand between her legs again.</p><p>“Now,” he said as he tensed his arm, cupping her hard enough to push her hips into the bed. “<em>Beg</em>.”</p><p>“Please, Ben,” she began, her voice breaking, and she was rewarded with a generous stroke of all his fingers between her folds. “Please, please, please.”</p><p>“Please, <em>what</em>,” he said, and nipped at her lips.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut, considering if she didn’t look at him, maybe her thorough capitulation would be easier to swallow.</p><p>“Look at me,” he said.</p><p>She opened her eyes. He was right there, and there was going to be <em>no</em> hiding from this.</p><p>“I want to watch,” he said by way of explanation. “Beg.”</p><p>“Please.” She licked her lips, steeling her nerve. “Please make me come.”</p><p>He expelled a breath, slowly, in a way that made her think he was hanging onto control by a thread. “Again.”</p><p>“Please, Ben, make me come.”</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>“Please make me come.”</p><p>“Don’t stop.”</p><p>He picked up the rhythm with his hand, and she picked up the rhythm of her plea. She let herself get lost in a litany of entreaties, a long, torturous loop with no clear beginning or end, just somehow rolling from <em>please Ben please make me come </em>to <em>Ben please let me come I need to come Ben, please let me come</em>.</p><p>Until he finally did, and <em>she</em> did, a blazing-hot rush of pleasure exploding from where he was pressing on her clit and she was clenching hard around his glorious bare fingers.</p><p>While she shook and screamed, he captured her mouth and pulled her tight to him with his other arm, and he didn’t let go until she stopped moaning and thrashing and just lay there, limp, panting.</p><p>Maybe because they were both tired, or maybe because she had nearly passed out, the bond was starting to quiver; it did that, a little signal before it cut out.</p><p>He felt it too. His grip tightened on her hand, and he leaned his damp forehead against her temple. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Yes.” An understatement. “Are you?”</p><p>“Nothing I can’t handle by myself.” His tone was rueful, but there was an amused glint in his eyes.</p><p>Several possible replies including the words <em>maybe next time</em> crossed her mind, but reality was intruding and this man was <em>still</em> the leader of the First Order and was still aiming to kill them all.</p><p>She sensed him wrestling with the rejection he still felt, from when she’d turned down his hand. But then he set it aside, determined to try again.</p><p>“Come <em>here</em>,” he whispered, and she knew he meant out there in the galaxy.</p><p>“Where’s ‘here?’”</p><p>“Meet me.” He must have just realized trading real locations was a dangerous idea, for the rebels and for him. “Please.”</p><p>“Ben. Come <em>home</em>,” she told him, and found the energy for one last plea in her eyes.</p><p>He swallowed, and he looked pained. “I can’t.” His eyes darted from side to side, then, like he heard something. “Not yet.”</p><p>And as the bond connection faded, he locked eyes with her one last time. “I’ll find you.”</p><p>She reached for him, instinctively, and her hand brushed something soft and leather. His gloves. They were somehow here, now, on her side of the bond. Laying across her stomach.</p><p>She lifted one, amazed. They could <em>send</em> each other things now.</p><p>“Your gloves,” she whispered, letting it echo in the part of her mind where she felt Ben’s connection.</p><p><em>Keep them</em>, came the reply.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My first-ever Reylo.</p><p>Stay tuned via Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/p1ratemistress">p1ratemistress</a> for more Reylo coming soon including a post-TROS canonverse chapter fic!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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